The Toy
by i-worthington
Summary: After Harry makes love with his true love, he is brutally raped by his uncle. How will he deal with the agony? HarryDraco, HarrySnape, HarryLucius, HarryHermione, HarryBlaise
1. Chapter 1

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night. Harry Potter was sitting there, drinking his butter beer, contemplating his dark future as well as the events of recent days. 

It had started off on another dark and stormy night, with a simple, "Hello, Mr. Potter."

He glanced up, startled, awed by the image of beauty before him.

And then, he realized, it was Draco's mother—Narcissa Malfoy.

"Why, hello Narcissa," he greeted her.

Her eyes swept over him like twin torches, burning into his soul.

"You are responsible for the misfortunes of my family," she whispered in a husky voice that bespoke her wrath.

"That I am," he said, smiling challengingly. "What will you do about it?"

And before he could so much as blink, she swept him up into her passionate embrace.

"Make love to me…"

Her whisper filled the air like aphrodisiac. He was lost.

* * *

The next morning, he awoke on cool sheets, stretched naked over a strange bed. The lingering scent of Narcissa Malfoy's perfume filled his nostrils. It took him a long moment to notice the apparition in the doorway, goggling at him through amazed, blue eyes. 

Lucius Malfoy.

"Hello, Lucius," he said softly.

"You, Harry Potter," he said, fixing me with cold blue eyes, "have done something unspeakable. Not only have caused great misfortunes for my family, but you have soiled my own bed—my own _wife_—with your seed!"

"That I have," Harry agreed, smiling gently. "What do you plan to do about it?"

Lucius Malfoy approached, his cheeks twitching furiously with his fast heartbeat. He drew his wand threateningly.

"Make love to me now," he commanded.

Harry stared at him a moment, a little weirded out. But when Lucius bent down, and claimed his lips with his own, all his fears and worries dissolved, and suddenly it was all too clear—he needed Lucius. _Now.

* * *

_

The next morning, he awoke, stretching his bare skin, feeling the gentle caress of cool sheets against his heated flesh.

Harry slowly, painstakingly made his way out of the room, feeling refreshed and strangely excited. What an amazing two days he'd had—and an even more incredible two nights.

He had nearly crossed the hallway, wrapped only in the crisp white bed sheets, when he beheld an unexpected apparition, looming—frozen—across the hall.

"Potter!" breathed Draco, staring at him with disbelief.

A smile stretched across Harry's lips. "Hello, Draco."

"You—you—what are you doing here?" Draco cried.

"I made love with your father last night," Harry murmured. "And with your mother the night before."

Tears filled Draco's eyes. "You've brought misfortune to my family, and now you presume to make love with my parents?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose you could say that."

Heat rose in Draco's face, and a fire consumed the cold gray of his eyes.

"You dare," he whispered threateningly, "to make love to my parents, yet to disregard _me_?"

Harry raised a challenging eyebrow. "It really depends on you, Draco."

The other boy crossed the distance between them in two great strides, pressing his lips furiously to Harry's, covering them in a passionate wetness.

Harry melted into the kiss, amazed, thrilled, excited to the fabric of his being.

"Make love to me," Draco whispered against his lips.

Harry grasped his sweaty shoulders, and let the sheet slip from around his naked form.

* * *

He awoke the next morning contented, satisfied. What a wonderful few days! He glanced around and with a sweep of his eyes realized that he was in Draco's dorm room. Yawning, he arose, and slowly began the painstaking process of gathering up his clothing. Draco had hastily grabbed it in their retreat from Malfoy Manor, through the floo, to Hogwarts, to Slytherin, to Malfoy's room, as they kissed and caressed the entire way. 

He smiled softly upon seeing the note, a fond lover's scrawl, Draco had so lovingly pinned to Harry's shirt. He had very little time, though, to read it, before he became aware of a dark figure looming in the doorway.

"Potter!"

Harry raised his head coolly, and spotted Severus Snape standing in the doorway like an angry beast.

"What are you doing here?" Snape hissed.

"I was invited," Harry said, smiling. "And I'd appreciate you turning around, since I'm still mostly naked."

Snape's eyes trailed down his form, as though drawn against their own volition to Harry's wiry, muscular form.

"So I see," Snape sneered, but his voice sounded strangely husky and strained.

Harry shrugged, and went about dressing again. He felt the hair prickle on the back of his neck as Snape continued to stare at him, as though a man in a trance. Harry was buttoning his shirt, when suddenly a pale hand snaked out and caught his.

"Wha—"

His voice was silenced by a kiss.

Harry stiffened in Snape's arms, feeling alarmed and afraid. But his fears and anxieties died away as Snape deepened the kiss, and suddenly he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Snape pressed him back onto Draco's bed.

"Make love to me, Potter…"

The whisper faded into the night, along with the sounds of their passionate lovemaking.

* * *

He awoke the next day feeling strangely happy and refreshed. What a few days he'd had. 

He glanced around, and realized he was in Snape's quarters. Harry smiled at the memory of Severus's firm body, and he rose to look around for him, wondering if he'd already headed out for the morning.

In this manner, he did not notice the lone figure looming in the doorway, staring at him with shocked lust.

"Harry."

Harry jerked around, startled. He instantly relaxed upon spotting Remus Lupin.

"Hello, Remus," Harry greeted. "Forgive my attire." He gestured to his naked body with a rueful smile.

"Oh, it's forgiven," Lupin whispered huskily. A smile crept across his lips, and he gradually closed the distance between them. "Oh, Harry—you don't know how sexy you look right now."

"Why don't you show me?" Harry replied tartly.

"Oh, I shall," Lupin promised. "That, and more."

And as he enfolded Harry in his arms, his whisper—"make love to me" resounded through the air.

* * *

Harry awoke back in Gryffindor. He had a sleepy memory of Remus carrying him lovingly up the stairs and depositing him gently upon his bed, caressing his soft flesh before retreating soundlessly into the night. 

Harry lay there now, naked, blissful. What a few days he'd had!

It was in that manner that Ron happened upon him.

"Harry—want to get breakfast?"

"No," Harry replied.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was basking in the warm sunlight outside, on a rare Scotland morning when the weather yielded the chance to bake Harry's skin a beautiful bronze. A single trickle of sweat ran down between his pectorals, dancing over his steely abs.

It was at this moment that the sun became blocked off by a black, menacing figure, and Harry squinted up into the exotic yet handsome features of Blaise Zabini.

"Hello, Blaise," Harry greeted softly. For a long time, he had not known whether Blaise was a boy or a girl; now he knew-- Blaise was very much a boy.

No, a _man._

"Potter," Blaise sneered unctuously, his eyes drifting lazily down Harry's half naked form and lingering at the clasp of his trousers. "I hear you made love with my snuggle-muffin."

Harry raised a challenging eyebrow, wondering just what snuggle-muffin he was referring to.

"Indeed," Harry acknowledged, smirking. "And just what do you plan to do about it?"

Blaise grinned wolfishly. "I want to see what all the fuss is about."

He tore off his robes in one swift movement, and stalked naked across the grass to Harry's reclining form. He bent down and swiftly claimed him with a heated kiss.

"What are you waiting for, Potter? Make love to me!"

* * *

Harry awoke, stretched across a table in the library. It had somehow seemed the most appropriate location to express his lust for Blaise. He felt content, tired, satisfied. What an incredible day this had been!

It was in this manner that he nearly missed Madame Pince, staring-- wide-eyed and disbelieving-- at his naked body.

"What--" she breathed, her rage nearly radiating from her. "What-- are-- you-- doing…. _Defiling_ my library with your seed?"

Harry glanced at her lazily, a contented smile playing across his lips. "Well, rather enjoying myself, I'd say."

She gasped for breath, as though her rage would never contain itself.

He rolled onto his side to face her, eyeing her challengingly.

"What do you plan to do about it?"

He half expected her to hit him. He was entirely shocked by what she did next.

She yanked up her skirt, and pounced on him, smacking his lips with a kiss that tasted of stale library books.

"Defile me with your seed, then, Mr. Potter," Madame Pince breathed. "Make love to me!"

* * *

Harry awoke, still in the library, due to an insistent hand shaking his shoulder. He smiled, contented, very relaxed. What a wonderful few days this had been! Nothing could interrupt his perfect reverie, nothing--

He opened his eyes and beheld Hermione.

Harry goggled at her, a bit horrified.

Oh, not _her._ He never wanted _her_ to see him in this state…

"Harry," she whispered hoarsely, "What are you _doing_ here? Were you hurt? Did someone attack you?"

Harry glanced down at the bite marks the last few days had littered fairly liberally over his naked body. "Nope. I should say not."

"What--" Hermione's eyes filled with distressed tears. "Please, tell me, why are you here?"

Harry thought quickly for a good excuse. "I had sex with Madame Pince! And Blaise!"

He'd thought it was a good excuse, but Hermione backed away several steps, staring at him, horrified.

"What happened to you, Harry?" she demanded in a trembling voice.

For one awful moment, Harry started to feel a bit ashamed. Here he was, lying naked in front of his _best friend_, having cavorted inside Merlin knew how many--

"What happened to you?" she repeated, her voice growing shrill. "When did you grow so-- so sexy? How did that happen?"

Harry shrugged, feeling a bit helpless to explain it himself. "I don't know, 'Mione. I wish I could give you a better explanation."

A heated look suffused her expression, and she drew closer, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips… a chaste kiss that quickly grew less and less innocent as their tongues tangled together, fighting for slippery dominance.

"Well, then, Harry?" she whispered. "Let's do it, then. Make love to me…"

Her whisper carried away on the heated library air, and only the sounds of their gentle lovemaking drifted between rows and rows of old spellbooks…

* * *

Harry awoke in Hermione's dorm room, feeling lazily contented. His entire form tingled with satisfaction. What an amazing few days it had been!

He glanced around, and found himself utterly unable to locate anything resembling manly clothing. He decided to forego it altogether as he happily descended the stairs, knowing it would be much more awkward, being caught dressed like some girl, than being caught naked.

It was in this manner that he encountered Lucius Malfoy, stretched out on a couch outside the stairs to the boy's section.

"Hello, Lucius," Harry murmured.

Lucius stared at him, betrayed. "You slut-- you _hussy!_"

Harry felt hurt by the words, but refused to show it. "I do have a life outside of you, you know."

"Oh, I know," Lucius said bitterly. "And I could accept it when you fucked my wife, when you fucked my son-- even with you fucked blasted Severus! But this!" he pointed a shaking finger up in the direction from which Harry had come. "This is _too much! _I will RAVISH YOU, Potter-- until you can't sit down for a week! _I will have my vengeance!_"

He stalked closer, and Harry felt the first tendrils of panic licking salaciously at his insides. Before he could make for the stairs, though, strong, powerful hands locked around his waist, enclosing him in their comforting embrace.

"Go away, Malfoy," said a husky male voice.

Harry realized suddenly that it was Ron.

"I have my wand," Ron growled. "And I'll give it to Harry so he can use it unless you go away."

Lucius glared at them both with hurt, affronted, and dented pride.

"This is not the end, Potter," he promised menacingly.

Harry felt his penis twitch with excitement at the words. "Go away, Lucius," he barely managed to say.

He went with Ron's strong, gentle urging up the stairs, and into their room.

"Can you believe that asshole?" Ron burst out.

"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head regretfully, thinking of not being able to sit down for a week.

"I can't believe you had sex with him," Ron said. "That's just wrong, Harry."

"What are you going to do about it?" Harry said, a note of challenge in his voice.

He held Ron's eyes for a long, heated moment.

"I'm going to tell Hermione!" Ron bellowed.

He didn't seem to understand why Harry broke into peals of laughter, but he stalked out nonetheless.

Harry's laughter followed him down the stairs.

* * *

The End..? 

I am a little confused re: you not liking the summary. What's wrong with it?


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was brooding darkly over his homework, thinking upon his future or possible lack thereof, when suddenly a beautiful apparition appeared above him.

"What's wrong with Ron today?" Neville asked conversationally, pulling aside the curtain to Harry's bed. His alabaster skin and pale eyes looked beautiful in the half-light.

Harry stared at him a long moment, mouth dry.

"Erm, he's acting strangely," Harry said. "I think it's because I keep having sex with everyone."

Neville stared at him a long moment. "Oh."

* * *

Harry was calmly studying when Ron returned. The other boy glanced around briefly, noticing Seamus dressing for bed. 

"Where's Neville?" he asked casually.

"Showering," Harry said, without looking up from his book.

A curious thing happened then. Seamus's face grew crimson.

Ron peered at him suspiciously for a long moment. Then he glanced towards the shower door. And suddenly he knew.

"Harry, you _didn't!"_ he cried.

Harry raised a challenging eyebrow. "So what if I did? What are you going to do about it?"

"Seamus, how could you?" Ron cried, ignoring the challenge in Harry's voice. "There's something _wrong_ with him!"

Harry bristled, offended by the suggestion. Seamus grew impossibly redder and immediately went on the defensive.

"It's only because I walked in on him makng passionate love with Neville! It looked like fun!"

"NEVILLE?" Ron cried. "NO! Noooooooo!"

* * *

Snape held him back for detention after class, and immediately told him to undress and prepare for more lovemaking. Harry pulled off his robes, happy to comply. 

Snape watched him undress through narrow, black eyes.

"Don't you find it the slightest bit odd, Mr. Potter," he said coldly, "That you are suddenly desired by all and sundry?"

Harry thought about it a moment. Shrugged. "No. Not really."

Snape pressed a long, thin finger to his lips and continued to eye him suspiciously. "Well, I certainly do. It was not your cavorting with each of the Malfoys successively that I find strange—many have done that at some point or another. Nor was it your liason with me, or even your dalliance with Lupin _on my bed_…"

Harry winced; they thought they'd been so careful to hide the evidence!

"… nor was it your liaison with Blaise Zabini or Miss Granger that especially threw me… But I find it quite odd that Madame Pince begged you to soil her with your manly seed."

Harry kicked aside the last of his clothes, and turned to face Snape with a note of challenge. "How'd you find out about that? I expected a librarian to be a bit more—well, quiet about it."

Snape smirked. "You were in plain view of the entire library, you young fool. My only advise to you is to steer clear of Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. Those are not images I want lodged in my mind."

Harry swallowed hard. Nor did he, really.

"I do wonder about your sudden… appeal," Snape continued. "Perhaps I should research curses…"

"Don't bother," Harry said quickly. "I kinda like this curse."

"It clearly involves some element of arousing the desires of others, and lowering the inhibitions in you," Snape said clinically, ignoring him. "Yet the overpowering desire on the part of others abates as soon as the relationship has been consummated—"

"Really?" Harry said, a bit hurt. "You don't desire me now that we've slept together?"

Snape stepped closer and drew Harry in for a kiss.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter, nothing arouses me _more_ than imagining the look your father's face, were he alive to witness this."

He smirked, and ran a possessive hand down Harry's backside.

"And, Potter?" he said."This time—_I _top."

* * *

He emerged from detention flushed, shaky. Ron and Hermione were waiting. She smiled upon spotting him, but Ron—more attuned, for once—took in his flushed cheeks, his slightly uneven walk. 

"Harry, not again!" he cried.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "You're just going to have to get used to it, mate."

"But-- but--" Ron sputtered. "Snape. He's _SNAPE!"_

Harry shrugged. "He's an ass, but he's got a great ass."

He heard a choked sob.

Harry glanced over and realized Hermione's eyes had suddenly filled with tears. Remembering his liaison with her, he suddenly felt awful.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so—"

But she did not stay to hear him. She ran.

Ron glared at him accusingly for a long moment, then followed.

Harry stared after them, suddenly feeling like a right asshole and very alone.

It took him a while to realize it wasn't actually his fault. His friends were just being pricks. Crabbe and Goyle reassured him of this later as they stretched out naked under the Quidditch stands.

* * *

**I still don't get what, specifically, about the summary you don't like. I thought it was a cool summary... but I suppose saying 'love' twice in one sentence 'true love' and 'make love' is worded a bit awkwardly, but there are a lot of bad summaries on this site. I could have been lazy and been like 'I suck at summaries' like a whole lot of people do and not bother to write one! But I didn't cause that is irritating.**


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